This is a piece from a book of one of my favorite writers. I feel it has some sort of relevance to ourselves.
"...Not long ago a slip of paper got into my hand from the depths of a drawer. I have lots of these small pieces, because whenever some idea that is worth writing comes into my mind, I scribble it onto one not to forget.
This piece had the following written on it:
“We get bored of someone when we told him everything about ourselves.”
Whoa, I cried out, what substantial bullshit! This is the kind of thing what only very young people think. Moved, I held the yellowed piece of paper in my hands, the age of which was demonstrated not only by the ink-pencil used for the scribbling, but also by the naivety, the lack of life-experience. Fifty years, at least.
Today I am much wiser. I know that a relationship, the depth and lasting of a friendship can be measured by how many times we told the same story to each other already.
By the fact that we move comfortably in each other’s past, that the locations and characters are familiar. We know, how the other lived through the war, the this-or-the-other big adventure, how he managed to escape, how he walked into a new trap later and who came in his way on the railway station at the border. We know already, of course, we know like the child who wants to hear the same tale over and over again, and we are not bored. What is more, we enjoy it, because it makes us feel safe and it radiates the intimate feeling of belonging together.
And we keep telling the memories of our lives to the other the same way. We keep telling the stories which gained their final, apt shape by nothing but repeating them several times...."
This piece had the following written on it:
“We get bored of someone when we told him everything about ourselves.”
Whoa, I cried out, what substantial bullshit! This is the kind of thing what only very young people think. Moved, I held the yellowed piece of paper in my hands, the age of which was demonstrated not only by the ink-pencil used for the scribbling, but also by the naivety, the lack of life-experience. Fifty years, at least.
Today I am much wiser. I know that a relationship, the depth and lasting of a friendship can be measured by how many times we told the same story to each other already.
By the fact that we move comfortably in each other’s past, that the locations and characters are familiar. We know, how the other lived through the war, the this-or-the-other big adventure, how he managed to escape, how he walked into a new trap later and who came in his way on the railway station at the border. We know already, of course, we know like the child who wants to hear the same tale over and over again, and we are not bored. What is more, we enjoy it, because it makes us feel safe and it radiates the intimate feeling of belonging together.
And we keep telling the memories of our lives to the other the same way. We keep telling the stories which gained their final, apt shape by nothing but repeating them several times...."
from: Eva Janikovszky: How beautiful life is! (Bad memory)
Translated by me
3 comments:
So, stories begin with "on the first floor of chemistry departement" are this type, where the chairs, the smell and the characters are very familiar :)
Or Zb and B his helper and they keep artifitially alive E. That lab really had an unforgatable smell. Here is a song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53ith7bNN8w
na most jol megrikattatok
hianyoztok am nagyon
You are not alone, we are with you!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVmxEpkEsXE&feature=related
I found "that" one also, but Im nice and I haven't put it.
Hehe, a few days, and you ownt miss me :D
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